Welcome to DAK TO and the 4th Infantry Division.
I arrived in-country mid-November 1967 on my first tour. In those days, commercial aircraft hauled people to and from ‘Nam. Tan Son Nhut airbase was the end of the line. The pilot taxi’s up to the terminal, the stews opened the doors and what came next is something that none of us will ever forget. The blast of heat and humidity was overwhelming. We lined up and were directed into the terminal for in-processing. There were quite a few guys standing around that had done their years’ worth and would be heading toward the last of the big PX on the bird we came in on. These guys all looked kind of rumpled in their khaki’s. Most needed haircuts, all were tanned, and all seemed to be in a different world than we were in. The immediate reality was that this is Day One of 365 and between now and then, bad things could happen.
I think they put us up in some type of dorm, fed us, and started figuring out where we were going to be assigned. The buzz was that there was a lot of shit going on at a place up in II Corps called DAK TO. Seems the gooks had mounted a major offensive and the Army was making a big build-up. The 4th Infantry Division was up there as was the 173rd Airborne Brigade.
Fast forward a few days. I ended up assigned to the 4th ID and was flown up to the 4th’s base camp, Camp Enari located at Pleiku. Those of us going to the 4th were issued our M16, web gear, and other stuff and the next day we were loaded on helicopters and flown up to DAK TO. In those early days, one tried to look inconspicuous and not do or say anything stupid. I remember standing on the airfield pickup point with other guys hitching rides further up-country. This guy – obviously not a newbie – says to me, “is this bird going to be a hook or a slick”. What is a hook, a slick? I didn’t know so I just acted stupid which I was having no trouble doing. BTW, a slick is UH-1 Iroquois light, general-purpose helicopter (UH1 Huey); a hook is a large, tandem rotor, cargo helicopter made by Boeing (CH47 Chinook). They were both workhorses in ‘Nam and they are still used around the world by many nations.
Our slick arrived and 5 or 6 of us piled on with our gear. Off we went – combat awaits! My arrival at DAK TO was like a visit to Disneyland. So much to see, hear, smell, feel and it hits you all at once. We landed on the far side of the runway. The pilot eased the slick into one of the blast revetments and we unassed. Where do we go now? Hq 1st Brigade, 4th Inf Div is across the runway, over that way. Be careful crossing the runway. I stumbled across the runway heading for a group of tents marked with Red Crosses and a large white metal container. As I was coming off the runway, I heard the whump whump of a slick coming in. I turned to look and here comes this slick maneuvering into the medical area. There was a large cargo net hanging beneath it . In the net were two bodies. One was laying on his stomach. He was without a shirt and I could tell that his whole upper torso was badly burned. The other body was laying on its back with his pants pulled down around his legs. His privates were exposed and I remember thinking that that guy is really well hung. At the other end though, he had no face. His head was like an empty shell. This was my first exposure to casualties and a pointed lesson that nobody gets a nice little hole punched in them like on television. Combat wounds are gruesome. I remember thinking that this is just the beginning. There will be more to come and they will be worse.
Spooky and the Importance of Clearing Fires..
The next 30 days were a blur. DAK TO came under frequent attack with everything from 82mm mortars to 75mm recoilless rifles to 122mm rockets. For us new guys, we were assigned to the 1st Brigade, 4th Division Headquarters to function as one of several assistants. This was the Brigade’s way of easing new officers into the combat environment before they took command of a company and moved out into the boonies.
Part of this duty was sitting and listening to the many radios that connected us with all of the units in the field, along with other activities that were on the communications net. I had been there a week or so and was pulling my first stint as Duty Officer. Over the radio comes a voice who identifies himself as Spook23. Ah, Spooky 23, an Air Force C47 gunship armed with multiple Gatling guns. Because we were frequently in contact with the enemy in the DAK TO area, the Air Force had assigned Spooky to cover us should we be attacked. So, I started talking to Spooky and told him that we did not have any targets at the moment, but he could orbit the AO (area of operations) and keep us appraised of anything that looked suspicious. The Spookys flew with all their lights off. You could hear them, but you could not see them. Shortly, Spooky came back on the radio and said that they were observing a line of flashlights moving on the ground. Did we want them to engage? Well, it seemed like a no brainer to me. These guys moving on the ground with flashlights were certainly not good guys. Here, we had a target and a weapon system that could pump out thousands of rounds per minute. Those Gatling guns were capable of putting one bullet in every square yard of the area of a football field. I gave Spooky the green light to engage. Shortly from a long distance away we could hear the fog horn moan of Spooky at work and we could see the thousands of tracer rounds pouring out of the sky onto the ground. Before I even thought about congratulating myself on my new found skills, a very irate Battalion Commander came up on his command net and demanded to know who in the hell authorized Spooky to fire into his area of operations.
Lesson Learned: You never, never release weapons without them being under the control of the proper authority. What I should have done is hand off Spooky to the battalion who controlled the area of operations and let them work together. I never heard anything more about this incident, but it surely drilled a great lesson into my brain that such stupidity is what causes friendly fire incidents.
Note: For a longer conversation between Norm and Ernie Camacho about their experiences, Click Here
I arrived in-country mid-November 1967 on my first tour. In those days, commercial aircraft hauled people to and from ‘Nam. Tan Son Nhut airbase was the end of the line. The pilot taxi’s up to the terminal, the stews opened the doors and what came next is something that none of us will ever forget. The blast of heat and humidity was overwhelming. We lined up and were directed into the terminal for in-processing. There were quite a few guys standing around that had done their years’ worth and would be heading toward the last of the big PX on the bird we came in on. These guys all looked kind of rumpled in their khaki’s. Most needed haircuts, all were tanned, and all seemed to be in a different world than we were in. The immediate reality was that this is Day One of 365 and between now and then, bad things could happen.
I think they put us up in some type of dorm, fed us, and started figuring out where we were going to be assigned. The buzz was that there was a lot of shit going on at a place up in II Corps called DAK TO. Seems the gooks had mounted a major offensive and the Army was making a big build-up. The 4th Infantry Division was up there as was the 173rd Airborne Brigade.
Fast forward a few days. I ended up assigned to the 4th ID and was flown up to the 4th’s base camp, Camp Enari located at Pleiku. Those of us going to the 4th were issued our M16, web gear, and other stuff and the next day we were loaded on helicopters and flown up to DAK TO. In those early days, one tried to look inconspicuous and not do or say anything stupid. I remember standing on the airfield pickup point with other guys hitching rides further up-country. This guy – obviously not a newbie – says to me, “is this bird going to be a hook or a slick”. What is a hook, a slick? I didn’t know so I just acted stupid which I was having no trouble doing. BTW, a slick is UH-1 Iroquois light, general-purpose helicopter (UH1 Huey); a hook is a large, tandem rotor, cargo helicopter made by Boeing (CH47 Chinook). They were both workhorses in ‘Nam and they are still used around the world by many nations.
Our slick arrived and 5 or 6 of us piled on with our gear. Off we went – combat awaits! My arrival at DAK TO was like a visit to Disneyland. So much to see, hear, smell, feel and it hits you all at once. We landed on the far side of the runway. The pilot eased the slick into one of the blast revetments and we unassed. Where do we go now? Hq 1st Brigade, 4th Inf Div is across the runway, over that way. Be careful crossing the runway. I stumbled across the runway heading for a group of tents marked with Red Crosses and a large white metal container. As I was coming off the runway, I heard the whump whump of a slick coming in. I turned to look and here comes this slick maneuvering into the medical area. There was a large cargo net hanging beneath it . In the net were two bodies. One was laying on his stomach. He was without a shirt and I could tell that his whole upper torso was badly burned. The other body was laying on its back with his pants pulled down around his legs. His privates were exposed and I remember thinking that that guy is really well hung. At the other end though, he had no face. His head was like an empty shell. This was my first exposure to casualties and a pointed lesson that nobody gets a nice little hole punched in them like on television. Combat wounds are gruesome. I remember thinking that this is just the beginning. There will be more to come and they will be worse.
Spooky and the Importance of Clearing Fires..
The next 30 days were a blur. DAK TO came under frequent attack with everything from 82mm mortars to 75mm recoilless rifles to 122mm rockets. For us new guys, we were assigned to the 1st Brigade, 4th Division Headquarters to function as one of several assistants. This was the Brigade’s way of easing new officers into the combat environment before they took command of a company and moved out into the boonies.
Part of this duty was sitting and listening to the many radios that connected us with all of the units in the field, along with other activities that were on the communications net. I had been there a week or so and was pulling my first stint as Duty Officer. Over the radio comes a voice who identifies himself as Spook23. Ah, Spooky 23, an Air Force C47 gunship armed with multiple Gatling guns. Because we were frequently in contact with the enemy in the DAK TO area, the Air Force had assigned Spooky to cover us should we be attacked. So, I started talking to Spooky and told him that we did not have any targets at the moment, but he could orbit the AO (area of operations) and keep us appraised of anything that looked suspicious. The Spookys flew with all their lights off. You could hear them, but you could not see them. Shortly, Spooky came back on the radio and said that they were observing a line of flashlights moving on the ground. Did we want them to engage? Well, it seemed like a no brainer to me. These guys moving on the ground with flashlights were certainly not good guys. Here, we had a target and a weapon system that could pump out thousands of rounds per minute. Those Gatling guns were capable of putting one bullet in every square yard of the area of a football field. I gave Spooky the green light to engage. Shortly from a long distance away we could hear the fog horn moan of Spooky at work and we could see the thousands of tracer rounds pouring out of the sky onto the ground. Before I even thought about congratulating myself on my new found skills, a very irate Battalion Commander came up on his command net and demanded to know who in the hell authorized Spooky to fire into his area of operations.
Lesson Learned: You never, never release weapons without them being under the control of the proper authority. What I should have done is hand off Spooky to the battalion who controlled the area of operations and let them work together. I never heard anything more about this incident, but it surely drilled a great lesson into my brain that such stupidity is what causes friendly fire incidents.
Note: For a longer conversation between Norm and Ernie Camacho about their experiences, Click Here